


A Lack of Niceties

by Sforzie



Category: Dissidia: Final Fantasy
Genre: Humiliation, M/M, Mateus is a jerk, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-08
Updated: 2012-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 19:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sforzie/pseuds/Sforzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Emperor comes across Kuja in the showers, and decides to put the little mage in his place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lack of Niceties

The Emperor would be the first to admit that he had never given much thought to the youngest of his fellow warriors. In his eyes, the red mage was at his best a murderous child. To Mateus the young man seemed vain and lazy. He never paid attention during the group’s meetings, and was usually only useful for reconnaissance. And from what his sometimes suspect memories could tell the Emperor, with each passing cycle Kuja grew more and more reluctant to fight. It would not be long before he would become a burden. So on the matters of the Emperor’s day to day thoughts and plans, Kuja barely registered.

That is, until one evening not terribly long into the current cycle. The warriors of Chaos, the males ones at least, had to share a communal bathing facility. There were individual stalls, yes, but due to some planner’s lack of foresight much of the rest of the space was shared. The Emperor, not wanting to have to mix too much with his fellows, usually waited until mid-morning before leaving his quarters and venturing to the baths. By then the morning bathers had already finished, and he could have the place to himself in peace and relative quiet. He liked to stand under the water and think, usually lingering there so long that the water went from bitingly hot to bitterly cold before he shut off its flow and went about his business.

This particular day Mateus was unable to partake in his bathing ritual during his usual time because the facilities had been closed for much of the day. There had been an incident early in the morning that had ended in a busted pipe. Despite his threats, the culprit had not been sussed out. The moogles had taken most of the day to make the repairs, and it was not until after he had finished his supper that Mateus was finally able to take a bath. He was the first one in, and since he was fatigued from the business of the day he did not spend as much time in the shower as he might usually prefer.

He was surprised, nay, dismayed to realize upon his exiting the stall that he was not alone in the baths. A small figure sat perched on one of the benches that lined the mirrored north wall of the communal space. Mateus knew who it was immediately. There were not any other of his fellow warriors that sported a shock of silver and violet hair with feathers growing from the top of his head. The young mage’s hair was wet, and he was working at combing carefully through his tresses and not paying attention to his surroundings. Mateus lingered in place and considered the sight.

The line of the younger man’s back was a sinful curve that flowed from his narrow shoulders down to his unusually petite waist and very un-masculine hips. The upper half did not seem to entirely match the lower. The legs that emerged from the towel wrapped around those curving hips were, while equally curvaceous, quite well muscled. If he had ever given it thought before, the Emperor would not have thought that this would be the case. The young man seemed to always be floating about, not walking, and certainly not running. But there the legs were, all the same, very long and sturdy and unexpectedly alluring. There was a strange bulge under the fabric of the towel, and after a moment’s thought Mateus was quite certain of its source.

“Why bother hiding your tail? It is not as though we don’t all know you have it.” Indeed, though it was usually stowed away under those ridiculous skirts of his, Mateus had seen Kuja fight and had seen the young man’s form change as he tranced. He had seen the tail, nearly identical to that of one of the warriors of Cosmos.

Kuja’s back stiffened, and his fingers clenched on the pearly surface of the comb in his right hand. “I don’t recall asking your opinion on the matter, Emperor.”

“You did not, but I am giving it to you all the same. You should be flattered.”

The younger man glanced over his shoulder. His cheeks pinked intriguingly, and he hurriedly turned his face away. Mateus realized why--not expecting anyone else in the bathroom, he had not bothered with covering himself upon exiting the shower. He smirked.

“What, don’t like what you see? I was under the impression that was your sort of thing.”

A snort escaped the other man, and he did not again look at him. He was combing his hair again, head bowed, shoulders hunched. The defensive posture intrigued him.

“None of that is any of your business,” Kuja said. “What are you even doing here? I am usually the last to bathe each day.”

“I can use these facilities whenever I choose,” the Emperor said. He narrowed his eyes at the pretty backside that was still presented to him. “Certainly you must know of the incident that transpired earlier in the day.”

“I do.” Kuja’s posture did not shift. “And you could have just as easily waited until tomorrow to take your two hour shower.”

“Would you have?”

At this the mage paused. “No. The thought of going to bed dirty is repulsive.”

“Then do not question my logic.”

Kuja made a noise to acknowledge his words, but did not say anything.

“So, are you going to let it out?”

“What?”

“That tail of yours,” the Emperor said. “Let it out.”

The mage set down the fine comb and turned his head slightly to the side. “Just because I have a tail does not mean that I wish to go flashing it about. Just as I do not go waving about other parts of me.”

“I didn’t say I want to see anything else,” he said, his tone smug as he moved closer to the bench where Kuja sat. The way the muscles on Kuja’s back tensed at his approach was nearly as intriguing to the older man as the twisted lump beneath the towel.

“Show me, or I will make you show me.”

“Why the sudden interest in my tail?”

The Emperor briefly considered the question but did not answer. “Stop stalling, Kuja.”

The younger man bowed his head for a moment, muttering under his breath in a tongue that the Emperor was not familiar with. The Emperor made an idle mental note to inquire as to the nature of that vulgar sounding tongue. That would come later. Right now his mind was quickly focusing itself on a different matter. In front of him, Kuja sighed. There was a quick ripple of movement beneath the towel, and then the young man’s tail emerged from its hiding. It twisted into the air in a smooth quick arc, the off-white lighting of the bathing room gleaming softly on the still damp fur of the tail. The fur was silvery violet, just like the mage’s hair. It looked soft to the touch, but for the moment Mateus managed to restrain himself from grabbing the limb. As quick as it had appeared, Kuja’s tail curled itself against his side, painting a vivid dark line against the white of his towel and the pale creaminess of his skin.

“Now, now, you stupid child. I want to see it.”

Kuja bristled. “You had your chance to see it.”

Mateus knew he was not the most patient of men. Ultimecia, that witch with all the time in the world on her side, had often complained about it. Even knowing this fact, it did not keep him from snapping at the most very junior member of Chaos’s team.

“Listen here, you impudent little whelp.” He quickly closed the distance between them, and Kuja let out an alarmed cry of protest as his fingers wrapped around the closest handful of tail and gave it a firm tug.

“Hey, let that go, don’t do that!”

“Then listen to your betters when you are being spoken to.”

Kuja was grimacing. “Spoken to? You were ordering me around.”

“As is my position to do so.” He smirked as he gazed down into the dark blue eyes. Their gaze was understandably troubled. It was interesting, when he was exposed like this, just how quickly the man’s haughty mask fell aside. The sheer nudity of it was far more arousing that the man’s body could ever hope to be. Mateus felt a twinge--he wanted to possess the vulnerability that dwelt in those blue depths. “Kuja, I do believe that you need to be educated on how to behave. After all, Chaos may not be as forgiving as I am when it comes to such disobedience.”

The younger man leaned away, his thin silvery brows drawing together over his eyes. “I do not require any education from you, Emperor.”

“On the contrary, I believe it will do you good. Spare the rod and spoil the child, and all that rot.” He held his right hand out to the side, and his staff appeared in a shimmer of light that was reflected in the room’s many mirrors. “And I am not one for spoiling.”

Another gasp of alarm escaped Kuja. He scrambled to his feet, but did not get very far. The Emperor’s left hand was still gripping the squirming length of his tail.

“What are you going to do? Run away? Silly child, you have nowhere to run to.” Energy sparked down the length of his staff. “No matter where you go, I will find you. You cannot hide from me.”

Kuja gritted his teeth. His eyes darted from the Emperor to the wicked silver and gold length in his right hand, and then back to the older man’s face. “You are no better than Kefka, I see.”

“Do not compare me with that cackling worm,” the Emperor said. He sneered for a moment, and a twitch of his right hand brought the pointed tip of his staff against the younger man’s calf. Kuja let out a hiss.

“How dare you strike me like that!”

“How dare I?” The Emperor smirked down at him. “Believe you me, that little lashing will be the first of many if you do not learn to behave and obey your betters.” He shook his head. “You know, Kuja, I feel like I am being forced to repeat myself. And I do truly hate having to repeat myself for no good reason.”

He did not strike so lightly this time, and the glowing tip of his staff left a brilliant pink mark just below the young mage’s left knee.

“Stop that!” Kuja’s hand rose, energy glowing at his fingertips, but the hand jerked away as the staff came to bear on his knee again.

“Let us try this conversation again.” The Emperor cocked his head, pointing the tip of the staff at the mage’s inflamed calf. “Why don’t we start with you kneeling?”

“Kneel? I will never--” The protest ended with an abrupt gasp. The Emperor had given his tail a sharp tug. At the same time his right hand drove the staff to strike again. A line of blood appeared. Kuja’s hand went to the wound, and after a long moment he sank to his uninjured knee.

“A small improvement.” The Emperor licked the front of his teeth. “A start, at least.” He released his grip on the mage’s tail, and the silvery length immediately coiled out of his reach. Kuja looked up at him. There was dread apparent on his pretty features. “Heal yourself. I do not need to sully myself with your blood. Not yet.”

“The blood is the magic is the life.” Kuja hesitated, but then shifted a hand to his wounded leg and murmured a Cure spell. The holy magic sent a tingle through the air. It was a low powered spell, but still quite potent coming from the red mage’s fingertips.

“Good. On your knees.”

The freshly healed knee lowered to join its twin. Kuja turned his face to the floor. His hair flowed in a curtain, concealing the misery behind it. The long peculiar feather that crowned his hair flopped forward.

“Look at me. I want to see your shame.”

He did not look up. “And what will you do with it?”

The Emperor was honest. “I have not entirely decided yet.” The tip of the staff tapped the floor next to Kuja. “I do suppose that will be determined in part by how you behave.”

“And if I do not behave?”

“Then I will most likely throttle your worthless hide until you swoon, which I can’t imagine will take a great while. And then I will deposit you on Kefka’s doorstep.”

There was something delicious about the way Kuja’s breath caught at the end of his threat. Even from this angle he could see the thin stomach clench inward and the shoulders jerk. He wondered what was behind the movement, but it would have to go without knowing. The Emperor did not entirely want to have to deal with the clown long enough to find out the answers to his questions. Besides, he was quite sure he could unlock those mysteries on their own.

“Let me put things into a bit of perspective for you, Kuja,” the Emperor said. It took a moment, but the silvery violet hair shifted back, and the mage’s gaze returned to him. Mateus held out his staff. “In the grand order of things, I am up here.” He tapped a fingernail to the golden orb near the top off his staff. “And you are down there.” He pointed to the floor, to where the pointed silver end of the staff was. There was a bit of blood smeared on one of the sharp edges. “You are barely fit to lick my boots, were I wearing any.”

“Then, why trouble with me at all?”

“Ah, there is a question. It is not you that is wanted, not what is in here...” He reached with his left hand, grabbing a handful of hair. It was soft and still slightly damp beneath his fingers. “No, that is of little use to me. But you are quite the finely crafted doll.”

“I am not a doll!” Kuja snapped, reaching and shoving at his hand. The Emperor had not been expecting quite such a vitriolic response from the gesture. An angry pink rose to the delicate cheeks of the mage as he glared up at the Emperor. “I have my own soul, I am not just an empty doll!”

“A soul does not make you special, Kuja. Not at all.” He stooped over the kneeling man. “However, this body is quite unique.”

“It is mine and not yours to have.”

“On the contrary.” The Emperor ran his tongue over the curve of the mage’s lower lip. “It is yours and it is mine to conquer.” He grabbed another handful of hair and pressed his mouth to Kuja’s, just as the pretty pink lips parted in protest. He was just beginning to enjoy the way the mage’s body strained against his when a sharp stab of pain jolted him back to his senses. The Emperor pulled away, a hand going to his lips.

The stupid monkey had bitten his lip.

“You disrespectful little bitch!” He snapped at the mage, his left hand moving from his hair to strike at his face. In his anger, he hit the smaller man harder than he intended, knocking him nearly all the way to the floor. He pressed a Cure to his bleeding lip, watching as Kuja struggled to his feet. There was a red mark steadily appearing along the line of his right cheekbone.

“You deserve no respect of mine!” Kuja shot back, tail twitching back and forth behind him.

“You are just going to have to be reminded of your place, then,” the Emperor said. He schooled his temper, and pushed his anger back down behind his usual impassive facade.

“I know my place--as far away from you as possible!” Kuja back pedaled a few steps. The fury in his gaze on served to make him more enticing to the other man. It was like gazing up the pale statue of a furious angel.

“Time for a re-education, then.” The Emperor raised the staff in his right hand, and as Kuja shied away again the taller man pounced upon him. He hooked his left arm around the mage’s petite waist and hoisted him off his feet. Kuja shrieked and swore at him, hands clawing at Mateus’s arm. Some of the pink lines drew deeply enough to bring blood to the surface, but the Emperor was undeterred.

He turned and made his way to the shower stall that he had only recently vacated. After yanking the towel free from his hips, Mateus gave the mage a toss into the stall. Kuja grunted as he landed hip first on the slick tiles. Mateus reached over him, turning the water back on. It was still fairly warm. He stepped back into the entrance of the shower stall.

“What are you doing?!”

“Putting you in your place.” He tapped the heel of his staff on the floor, and a thunder crest exploded into being beneath the mage. Mateus felt a bit of a tingle, but it was surely nothing compared to the jolt that went through Kuja. A horrible scream tore its way from the mage’s small frame. The Emperor was not certain whether it was that sound that put his hair on end or the electrical current. After a moment he waved the spell away. When his eyes readjusted to the normal lighting, the Emperor gazed down at the other man.

Kuja was crumpled beneath the warm flow of water. He was panting for breath, fingers gripping at the tiled wall. A faint smell of burning filled the humid air. His anger appeased for now, the Emperor tilted his head.

“Have you learned your place, yet? It is there, at my feet. Do you understand?” He tapped the staff lightly on the floor, and Kuja flinched. “Or do you need another lesson?”

After the question had long faded into the sound of the shower, Kuja looked up at him. There was something feral in the look. He was like a wild animal that knew it was hopelessly trapped. The sight of it, the uncertainty of the matter, was enough to nearly make the Emperor hard.

Then, finally: “No more.” The mage’s voice was strained from his screaming. Mateus thought he rather preferred it to Kuja’s usual shrill tone.

“You will behave?”

“...for now.”

He supposed that was good enough. “If you try anything like that again, I will repeat the lesson.”

Kuja nodded in acknowledgement. The Emperor waved his staff away. He stooped again, collected Kuja with an arm around the waist and lifted him back to his feet. The mage’s legs were trembling, as was much the rest of him.

“I believe you will find that I can be quite the agreeable Master if you stop struggling so damned much.”

The mage shook his head. “...no Master.”

“What? Well, you clearly can’t take care of yourself. Someone needs to keep you collared.” He gave the slender waist a squeeze. “You would prefer it be the clown?”

“...no.”

“Good.” He leaned against the wall, out of some of the spray, and kept the smaller man held against his chest. To his mild surprise, Kuja relaxed against him. The silvery head tilted back, and he held his left hand out into the stream of water.

“If I am so utterly worthless, then why do so many wish to possess me? It cannot be both.”

Mateus considered the question. He traced his nails down the lean line of the mage’s stomach, finding pleasure in the way it made the man shiver. “I suppose.. That in a way you are like an ornamental sword.”

“Really? I do not see the likeness.”

“Oh? Well, you are a finely crafted thing of beauty. You represent power, but are not meant to be used in combat yourself. You are meant to rest at the hip of a man of power.”

“I can fight, you know.”

“Of course. Chaos would not have summoned you had he not thought you capable of some sort of combat measures.” He curled his fingers around Kuja’s cock, earning a gasp from the younger man. “I am simply answering your question.”

“That is such bullshit.”

“Mm, you’re the one who asked a question with a bullshit answer.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Do you think I am beautiful?”

“You would not be worth the time were you not,” the Emperor said. He ran his tongue along the line of skin that covered Kuja’s jaw. Below, his hand was slowly stroking the younger man’s cock, and when Kuja squirmed against him, the curve of his buttocks rubbed up against Mateus’s own budding erection.

“I see.”

“I am glad we are all on the same page, now.” The Emperor turned them around until he could feel the stream of water against his bare back. “Put your hands against the wall.”

Kuja gave an uncertain murmur, but did as he was ordered. He rested his hands against the tiled wall of the shower stall, slumping forward as the Emperor released his grip on his waist. He gave the mage’s cock another squeeze before moving his hand to give attention to his own member. He gave the curvy hips a tug back, and the mage’s fingers squeaked down the tile. Kuja made an uneasy noise in his throat as the Emperor pressed the head of his cock to the tight ring of his entrance.

“Hey, wait, aren’t you at least going to--” Kuja’s protest died on his lips, choked off by a pained gasp that bubbled up from his throat. The Emperor pushed into him, relishing the way the mage’s entire body seemed to tighten on him in resistance to the penetration. Kuja hissed in pain. The silvery stripe of his tail shot out, hooking around the side of the Emperor’s stomach. The Emperor responded with a soft grunt as he pushed in deeper.

“This will stick better to your memory if it is not diluted with lubricants.”

Everything about the mage was beautiful, the Emperor thought as he worked his hips. When he threw his head back and barked his strange language at him in protest, even that had a certain feral elegance to it.

“Oh, god, you bastard-!”

“Such platitudes are not necessary,” he said. The Emperor gave Kuja’s ass a squeeze, and then roughly thrust in until their hips met. Kuja yelped, body tensing again. Mateus was surprised when he felt something warm and wet strike his foot. “Wait, did you just come? Already?”

“Don’t flatter yourself!” Kuja snapped. He was panting. No, he was lying, Mateus was quite sure of it. Some of the tension had ebbed from the mage’s body. He leaned over Kuja, grinding their hips together, and whispered in his ear.

“You’re still going to have to serve my turn.”

Kuja responded with a soft whimper as the Emperor began to thrust into him. Released or not, he was still wonderfully tight, and Mateus was quite determined to get his fair share of satisfaction from this encounter. He lasted a few minutes more, ignoring the noises of pain that continued to escape his partner.

Mateus withdrew before he came, curling his fingers around his cock and stroking a few more times. When he did finally come, it was in a pearly stream along the curve of the mage’s ass and at the base of his tail.

“My t--you just came on my tail, didn’t you?” To the Emperor, Kuja sounded amusingly affronted. He watched the warm water of the shower wash away most of his seed before leaning forward, resting his weight on a hand flat against the wall. Below him, Kuja reached behind him and scrubbed his fingers through the fur at the base of his tail. He was muttering in that foreign tongue again. After a moment, the mage slipped away, hastily grabbing the discarded towel from the floor and disappearing out of the stall. The Emperor stared at the vacated space for nearly a minute before he righted himself. He turned off the shower, wrung the water from his long hair, and then returned to the main room of the baths.

Kuja had wasted no time in getting himself covered up. He was already in what the Emperor surmised amounted to the younger man’s pajamas--a long tunic of some thin, mint green material that barely met his hips and a pair of similarly green shorts that barely covered his ass.

“You are quite the agile little monkey, aren’t you?”

Kuja huffed lightly, but did not respond. He was combing his hair out again. His tail whipped back and forth behind him, as though trying to deter another assault to his hindquarters. Mateus smiled thinly for a moment before pushing the impassive mask back to his features.

“I do hope you have learned your lesson.”

“I have,” Kuja said, getting to his feet. “Make sure that there really is no one in the bathroom next time.”

“Funny.”

The mage collected his bathing supplies and turned to look up at the Emperor. “Next time you feel like buggering me, you need to preface it with some niceties. You know, dinner and wine, or flowers, or something that isn’t magic coming from that horrid staff.”

“Next time? Now who’s flattering themselves?”

Kuja gave him a look and teleported out of the bathing room.

The Emperor stood with his hands on his hips and studied his reflection in the mirrors.

“Niceties.. Where the hell am I supposed to find wine and flowers in this wasteland?”

\--End--


End file.
